


Draco's Terrible Night

by thenerd1026



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-16
Updated: 2013-10-16
Packaged: 2017-12-29 14:40:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1006601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenerd1026/pseuds/thenerd1026
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco's gift for Harry goes wrong...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Draco's Terrible Night

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for my roomie who demanded some smut. :)

“Do you think he’ll like these?” Pansy asked, holding up a leopard print g-string. “You could get cat ears and everything.”

Draco scoffed at the offending piece of material. “We’re going through a dry spell, Pans. I haven’t resorted to selling my body on the street corner for some attention.”

“How long has it,” Pansy stared pointedly at Draco’s backside, “been dry?”

Draco gasped and frantically scanned the store, but no one had overheard his friend. “God, Pans, why do you have to be so crass?”

“Maybe that’s what he needs,” Pansy supplied with an arched brow. “He doesn’t want to have to pamper his pri madonna all the time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Draco challenged and cringed at a pleather number with more buckles and zippers than anything with that little amount of material had a right to have. If his boyfriend was into this, he’d dump him in a heartbeat.

Drawing out the tension before she answered, Pansy moved onto the next section of lingerie. “Maybe he wants it rough and dirty sometimes,” she suggested, holding up a pair of red and gold nipple tassels.

Draco shook his head and moved further into the store. He just knew that if he could find the right thing then his relationship funk would be over. The only problem was that he knew what that something wasn’t, but he didn’t know what it was either. He hadn’t really figured out what he was looking for and hoped it would jump out at him.

“Draco,” Pansy whispered into the blond’s ear, “the guy in the corner has been checking you out since you walked through the doors.”

It hadn’t escaped his notice that three other men in the store had been making eyes at him. Draco knew he was gorgeous—he had a casual air of masculinity about him, but was oh-so pretty. It was something that his boyfriend told him all the time, usually while he was seething with possessiveness and trying to mark the blond in more ways than one.

Contrary to what Pansy thought, Draco knew how to get him hot and bothered.

Which was why their dry spell terrified the blond.

“Your point?”

“You should go talk to him,” Pansy elbowed Draco’s back as if that was all the incentive he needed to talk up a complete stranger.

“I’m not talking to someone just because they can’t stop staring at my arse,” Draco drawled and flinched at the cock rings Pansy was perusing.

She followed his gaze and smiled, “These aren’t for you. I’m thinking of buying one for Theo.”

“Don’t make me vomit,” Draco pleaded. “That’s disgusting.”

Pansy turned on him, hands on her hips and a menacing glare on her face. “I have had to endure a play-by-play of your sexual—well I was going to say adventures, but I guess we wouldn’t be in this store desperately trying to salvage your relationship if there were any adventures.”

“You bitch,” Draco snarled and reached for his wand before he remembered that they were standing in a muggle store.

“Yes, darling, and you’re horny.” She glanced back at the man in the corner who was openly staring at Draco. “Just go see what he’s into.” Nodding her head as if coming to a decision, she latched onto Draco’s arm and dragged him to the back of the store.

“Excuse me,” Pansy simpered when they approached the man. He was an inch or two shorter than Draco, had a broader, muscular build, had messy, brown hair, and bright blue eyes hidden behind square frames. He was close, but not close enough to the real thing. “My friend here was wondering what you’d pick out for him to wear,” she smirked.

Draco subtly dug his elbow into Pansy’s ribs and sent daggers at the girl. Not only did this just feel so wrong, it was embarrassing as hell. He wanted to dress for someone else, not this cretin.

The other man’s gaze was hot as it lingered on Draco’s body, trying to imagine him in teeny tiny clothing. “Hmmm,” he rubbed his chin like he was thinking about how to create world peace and not picturing the blond writhing beneath him. “I think putting any sort of clothing on this body should be illegal,” he spoke, a silent plea in his voice. 

God, he was probably going to come in his pants just thinking about Draco. 

“If you’d excuse me,” Draco drawled and marched away from Pansy, returning to his part of the store. 

He had just picked up a garter belt when Pansy hissed, “Did you have to be so rude?”

“Did you have to try pimping me out to a complete stranger when I have a boyfriend?”

“He’s a tosser.”

“And you’re a mega-bitch,” Draco retaliated. “Now help me find…” his voice trailed off when he saw it. The it. The it that was going to turn things around. And fuck…if Potter wasn’t coming by the end of the night, then Draco would turn straight.

***

Merlin, Draco was uncomfortable. How he had let Pansy talk him into the leopard print g-string on top of Harry’s surprise was beyond him. As it was, he was too afraid to move from his position sprawled on their shared bed for fear that he’d ruin his boyfriend’s gift since it had taken a while to get it just right.

If Harry didn’t come home soon, the blond would blow his gasket in more ways than one.

As if on cue, Draco heard the telltale crack of apparition coming from the kitchen and knew it was only a matter of time before Harry made his way upstairs to discard his scarlet Auror robes.

The blond let out a soft moan as he imagined the look on his boyfriend’s face when he saw what Draco was offering. Fuck, it would be so perfect.

“Dray?” Harry called up the stairs, the sound of his voice sent chills down Draco’s spine. “Are you home?”

Swallowing his saliva in order to moisten his suddenly dry throat, Draco calmed his heartbeat enough to reply. “I’m up here, Harry. Care to join—”

“Are you ready to go?” Harry interrupted, his voice coming closer.

“Yes,” Draco whimpered. “I’m so ready, Baby.”

“Good. I don’t want to be late,” Harry said from the other side of the door.

“We wouldn’t want that—wait, what?”

He heard Harry’s exasperated sigh and saw the door handle turn slowly. “Don’t tell me you forgot. Tonight’s Molly’s birthday dinner at the Burrow.”

Oh shit.

Draco glanced down at his practically naked body and jumped from the bed, messing up Harry’s present. He raced into their walk-in closet just as Harry opened the bedroom door. “Dray? I thought you said you were ready, love?”

There was no time. Shit. Shit. Shit. Draco grabbed the closest pair of trousers, praying they weren’t Harry’s, and pulled them on. He grabbed a shirt and ducked his head and arms into it faster than he’d ever dressed in his life. Socks and shoes adorned his feet courtesy of swift fingers and a whispered accio. 

“I am. I just wasn’t sure I was dressed up enough so I thought I’d change.”

Fidgeting until his clothes were in pristine order and his hair wasn’t showing the signs of “fucked out bedhead” that Draco had spent an hour perfecting, he threw open the door with what he hoped was a smirk and not a crazed, I-have-a-toy-shoved-up-my-arse sort of smile.

“Hi, love,” Harry walked over to Draco and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, bringing the toy to life.

Fuck.

It was charmed to vibrate any time Harry touched him. He hoped that the tassels on the end weren’t jingling like they had been in the store.

“What’s that sound?” Harry asked, his hand lingering on Draco’s. 

“Wh—what—what s-s-sound?” Draco stammered, his body convulsing around the toy, leaving Draco squirming like someone had put itching powder down his pants. 

Harry let go of Draco and walked toward the door. “Weird,” he said more to himself than to Draco. “I don’t hear anything now.”

Draco glanced down at his very hard, incredibly noticeable erection and chewed on his bottom lip. This was going to be a long night. Maybe he could just take it out quickly—

“Coming, Dray?”

“I wish,” the blond whispered before groaning and following his boyfriend down the stairs and over to the fireplace.

He took a moment to appreciate Harry’s artsy, messy hair and twinkling green eyes. His muscles were bulging out of his shirt, his back rippling underneath the material and the way that his muggle jeans were clinging to his thighs and arse made Draco want to drop to his knees and beg Harry to take care of him.

It had been too long and Draco was too far gone to care.

He was about to pounce on Harry when the flames in the fireplace blazed green and the former Gryffindor turned to face him. “After you,” he gestured to the fire, his eyes sweeping over Draco to which the blond visibly preened. “You look amazing,” he murmured and reached for Draco’s hand again.

Draco knees buckled as the buzzing in his arse grew stronger and a high-pitched keening sound was torn from his throat. The blond panted in Harry’s arms, needing his boyfriend’s body to keep him upright even though it was his contact that was doing those things to Draco in the first place.

And those things had the blond impossibly, painfully hard. This did not bode well.

“There’s that buzzing again,” Harry scanned the room as if he could see the sound waves. “You alright, love?”

Pushing Harry’s tantalizing and offending body away from him, the blond whined at the loss because all he needed and wanted was for Harry to take care of his problem. He had never been so turned on in his life. “I just stubbed my toe,” Draco lied and walked through the flames, ignoring the fact that there wasn’t anything for him to stub his toe on.

“I must have taken that jinx to my head harder than I thought,” Harry mumbled behind him.

***

The Burrow, which was already a snug fit when it wasn’t this packed, was currently housing every Weasley that had ever lived, all the members of the Order of the Phoenix, every fucking Gryffindor alive, and a group of freed house elves that were banging their heads against the walls and stepping on their ears. All in all, it was a party full of every type of person Draco had spent the majority of his life insulting.

The evening was just getting better. 

“Don’t be nervous, Dray,” Harry whispered into the blond’s ear, the ghosting of his lips against the shell of Draco’s ear made him whine as the toy vibrated against his prostate. “God,” Draco moaned, jerking his hips like some sort of animal in heat.

Mistaking the source of Draco’s discomfort, Harry grabbed his boyfriend’s hand and lead him through the crowd. There was one good thing about the amount of people surrounding Draco: Harry wasn’t able to hear Draco’s whining or the buzzing from the plug. Not that it really mattered since Draco was so out of his mind he would have begged Harry to take him in the middle of the room if his boyfriend wasn’t distracted by all of his friends. As it was, Draco had to try to stand still and refrain from rubbing up against random partygoers.

He was pretty sure that frotting against Longbottom or Finnegan was not the right thing to do—neither was humping his boyfriend’s leg, which he was about two seconds away from doing.

Blindly following Harry toward the back door—and Merlin, he wished Harry was trying to get into his backdoor—Draco almost fell over from the force of it all. The longer he held onto Harry’s hand, the stronger the vibrations became until the blond was a rambling mass of need and want with a heat burning low in his belly.

“H-H-H-Harry,” he stuttered and pressed his forehead to the back of his boyfriend’s shoulder. “I ne-need—fuck—I-I’m going t-t-to—”

“Harry! We’re all out here, mate.”

I’m going to come in my pants with Ronald Weasley standing two feet away, Draco thought as a shiver ran up and down is spine, his body visibly starting to convulse.

“Fuck,” Draco hissed as he tried to stave off his orgasm.

Ron closed the gap between Harry and pulled him into a tight hug, effectively forcing Harry to free the blond’s hand and stopping whatever embarrassing performance Draco was about to show the room at large. He felt like a wanton porn star and that was so not on. 

“Draco,” Ron gasped, “are you okay? You look like you’re feverish?”

Harry turned his concerned green eyes on the blond and searched his face. “You do look flushed, Babe. Is it too hot in here for you?” He touched the back of his hand to Draco’s forehead and the blond mewled as the toy buzzed against his prostate, sending pleasure radiating throughout his body. He closed his eyes so that Ron didn’t see the pure longing or his lust-blown pupils.

“If you’re not feeling well, Dray, we can go home,” Harry whispered firmly, yet affectionately.

Draco desperately wanted to scream, “Yes” for more reasons than one, but his boyfriend chose that moment to remove his hand from the blond’s clammy skin. 

“But you just got here,” Ron argued. “You can’t leave now.”

Harry searched Draco’s face again, and the indecision was evident in his emerald eyes. “If Draco’s sick—”

“Fine,” Ron sighed heavily and sent a quick glare in Draco’s direction. “At least give Mum a hug before you leave.”

Harry’s shoulders visibly slumped and Draco felt like a total wanker. “We don’t have to,” he cleared his throat, “leave. We can stay. I’ll be fine.”

The brilliant smile that Harry beamed at his boyfriend was warmer than the arousal flowing through the blond’s veins. He leaned in and captured Draco’s mouth in a bruising kiss. “Oh, Merlin!” the blond cried and rubbed himself against Harry before he had a chance to restrain himself. “Fuck! Fuck yes, Harry, Fuck!” he screamed against his boyfriend’s lips.

“Um—” Harry pulled away from Draco, giving him the physical distance he needed in order to regain a modicum of control over his body. All it took was one glance around the room to see that everyone was staring at them with rapt attention.

Draco stared at Harry who had ducked his head—his entire face was redder than a tomato along with the tips of ears.

Awkward didn’t even begin to describe the tension that had settled in the Burrow. Fortunately—and thank Merlin for this one—Molly was still outside with Arthur and some of the others. 

It was Ginny who broke the silence in the room and for that, Draco would forever be grateful. “Hey, I know firsthand that Harry’s a good kisser. No need to rub it in, Malfoy!” She laughed which set off a chain reaction of chuckles around the room.

“Let’s eat,” George announced and gestured toward the doors leading outside. He clapped Draco and Harry on the shoulder as the crowd dispersed and whispered, “Are you sure you two are going to behave during dinner?”

Draco wished there was a hole in the floor that he could fall into and die. The Weasleys now knew that Draco was hornier than humanly possible. He chewed on his bottom lip to refrain from whimpering in response and nodded. 

“Can you give us a minute, guys?” Harry asked, his eyes going from Ron to George who shrugged in turn. 

The two redheads lumbered away, not without a few snickers and covert glances sent Draco’s way. Before George slipped out the door, he purposely stared at Draco’s erection the calculating look in his eyes instantly transforming into amusement. “The bathroom is free and far enough away from eavesdroppers.” He saluted them and closed the door. 

“Dray,” Harry urged, his eyes boring into Draco’s in an unrelenting stare. “Are you sure you’re doing alright?”

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, the blond shrugged and glared at the stairwell, decidedly not making eye contact with his boyfriend. This was so humiliating. All he wanted to do was surprise Harry and end whatever non-sex funk they had found themselves in. Now he had spent more time than anyone should with an erection, rubbing against Gryffindors, and almost coming in his pants in front of everyone.

And Harry was looking at him like he didn’t recognize him.

“Top notch, love,” Draco drawled. He grinned at Harry’s look of confusion—furrowed brows and pinched face—before he sauntered through the door, joining the rest of the party outside. 

***

Molly and Arthur sat at the head of the magically elongated table with twinkling fairy lights floating over their heads and Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Harry and Draco were grouped at the other end. Any time Draco looked up from his plate, Ginny caught his eye and gave him a saucy wink.

Other than a few snickers sent his way and the pointed looks, dinner went off without a hitch. Except for one very important, and humiliating hitch.

It happened just before dessert was served.

“How’s training coming along?” Neville directed his attention to Draco with a brief smile. “I heard you’re one of the best healers in training St. Mungo’s has had in over a century.”

Ducking his head in order to hide the flush that spread through his cheeks, Draco raised one shoulder and let it drop. “I’m not sure—”

That was when it happened. Harry—sweet, wonderful, loving, stupid, Harry—squeezed Draco’s knee and left his hand to rest on the blond’s thigh. God, his hand was brushing the inside of his legs and Draco writhed under the onslaught of pleasure that surged through his body.

No longer possessing the strength to hold his head up, Draco thrashed his head back and forth against Harry’s shoulder, his eyes clamped shut and his mouth hanging open in a silent scream. He wasn’t going to last. He was going to come at the dinner table surrounded by all of Harry’s friends and in front of Molly bloody Weasley.

“Bloody hell,” Ron cursed and squirmed, his cheeks matching his flaming red hair. “What is wrong with you Malfoy?”

“Noth—oh, oh, oh—N-n-nothing, We-e-e-easle.” Draco keened, his hips pistoning into the air on their own accord and searching for any sort of friction. “S-s-s-s-s-s-so go-o-o-o-od,” Draco moaned. 

Miraculously composing himself, Draco ignored the expressions on the people around him—especially Harry’s—and coughed to alleviate some of the awkward tension that had settled heavily on them. “I seem to have dropped something on the ground,” he said in his poshest voice, recalling all the years of etiquette training he had undergone. “If you’d excuse me.” He slipped to his knees and crawled under the table, his entire body shaking from want and embarrassment.

Against his better judgment—it’s not like he could rationalize clearly anyway—Draco shoved his hand into his pants and stroked his impossibly hard cock. He panted heavily and chewed on his bottom lip as he stripped his cock until he spurted into his hand with a groan loud enough to alert the others to the noise. He didn’t care. His body tingled in the most blissful way, his mind blank as shudders raked through his body. 

It wasn’t enough though.

He needed Harry’s touch. Only Harry had the power to give Draco what he needed and just thinking about it had his half-hard dick standing at full attention. It twitched in his hand.

“Dray?” Harry’s voice washed over Draco making the blond’s body scream for his touch. Without thinking about it, Draco shuffled over to Harry and buried his face against the brunette’s half-hard cock. Apparently Harry wasn’t immune to Draco’s noises and wanton displays.

“Dray,” Harry squeaked when the blond started to suck on his cock through his jeans. Fuck, Harry smelled so good and the butt plug in Draco’s body hummed against the blond’s most innermost sensitive spot. He wanted to bring Harry the same kind of pleasure. 

He started to pull down Harry’s zipper when another wave of pleasure wracked Draco’s body and his dick convulsed and squirted in his pants. “Fuck,” Draco simpered. “So fucking good.”

Just when he was about to get his prize—because all Draco wanted to do was swallow Harry’s cock until he came down his throat—the brunette batted his hands away from his jeans. The prickle of a cleaning spell ghosted Draco’s skin, sobering the blond’s haze of lust.

They were at a party. Everyone knew Draco was under the table moaning and groaning and if the panting coming from Harry was any indication, the other man hadn’t hid what Draco was doing to his boyfriend.

Shit.

And someone else had cast a cleaning charm on him. Someone else knew that Draco had come.

At Molly’s birthday dinner.

Under the table.

“Presents,” Hermione and Ginny suggested simultaneously. 

There was a shuffling of feet and scraping chairs as everyone gathered around Molly at the other end of the table. When Draco was the only one left, he crawled out of his hiding place and ran into Harry’s legs with a soft oaf. 

“You’re scaring me,” Harry said softly as he studied Draco’s face like the answer to the blond’s behavior was hidden in his eyes. “Did you abuse any potions?” he whispered, his voice sounded so broken that Draco had to screw his eyes shut against the attack of emotions.

The blond could only shake his head. 

Like he was placating an animal, Harry started to pet Draco’s head, running his fingers through the soft blond locks, and forcing a whimper out of his boyfriend. Draco nuzzled his head against Harry’s palm and wiggled his backside in the air. “Delicioussssssssss,” he hissed and humped back against the toy in his hole.

“Merlin, Dray,” Harry bit out. “I’ve never seen you—”

“Harry,” Molly called out. “We’re waiting for you and Draco,” she added with the sweetest smile that the blond had ever seen. God, he was such a fucking pervert. He was so close to losing all control and riding Harry for all he was worth. 

***

Draco spent the next two hours avoiding Harry’s touch. Anytime his boyfriend reached for him and leaned in to whisper in his ear, Draco pulled away and busied himself with a drink of champagne or a brief conversation with whoever was nearby. Once or twice he tried to escape to the bathrooms to slip the butt plug out of his body, but Harry wouldn’t let the blond out of his sight.

Needless to say Draco was miserable. Even when Harry didn’t touch him, the toy pushed against his prostate, doing delectable things to his body. 

And it didn’t help that Ginny Weasley was watching his every move like a hawk hunting prey, an amused smile playing at the corners of her lips.

Between the toy, the Weaslette’s stares, and Harry’s heated gaze, Draco’s nerves were shot and all he wanted was to go home and beg Harry for release. He thought his wish would come true when the partygoers started leaving, but the fates really hated Draco.

“Molly wants us to stay the night with the rest of his family,” Harry told Draco, gently brushing his fingers against the blond’s hand that sent a ripple of pleasure through his veins. “She’s worried that you might be coming down with something. Are you?”

Draco narrowed his eyes at the implication that there was something wrong with him even though there really was. “I’m fine, Harry. Which room are we staying in?”

“Ron’s old room,” Harry nodded his head in the direction of the stairs. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

“Fuck yes,” Draco hissed when Harry cupped his elbow. Bed sounded like the greatest thing that Harry had ever suggested. 

They entered the room to find it occupied by George Weasley. Draco groaned and not from pleasure when he saw the redhead lounging on a cot in the corner of the room. The blond chewed on his lip and almost cried. Almost. Malfoys had a little more pride than to break down in front of a Weasley—coming in front of them on the other hand…

“I didn’t know you were staying in here,” Draco drawled with a sneer. Out of all of the Weasleys he liked George best, but he needed to be alone with Harry and the freckled git was cockblocking him.

Harry elbowed Draco’s side, making the other man groan, and scoffed at Draco. “Don’t be rude,” he commanded. “You’re acting like a brat.”

“Have I been naughty, Harry?” Draco purred, closing the distance between the two men and licking the brunette’s neck. He bit down softly forcing a moan out of his boyfriend.

Harry’s eyes widened as he glanced from Draco to George and back to his boyfriend and, fuck, if it didn’t turn Draco on even more. He loved it when Harry took charge and dominated him, but there were other times when he loved to knock Harry off guard. 

The brunette gulped, grabbed Draco’s hand, and dragged him into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind them.

He crowded Draco against the sink and crushed their mouths together with a fierce growl. The blond keened and practically shoved his tongue down his boyfriend’s throat as he frotted against the other man, finding an answering hardness rubbing against his thigh.

“Fuck, Harry,” Draco whimpered. “You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me.”

“Tell me.” Harry stepped away from his boyfriend, his green eyes seeking out Draco’s. “Tell me what’s been going on with you all night.”

Draco chewed on his lip and came to a decision—if he had to ride Harry in a Weasley bathroom, he would. He touched Harry’s face, the vibrations deep in his body hummed in the silence.

The blond could see the exact moment that realization dawned like a lightswitch in Harry’s eyes. “The buzzing?”

Draco nodded, a whine rumbling at the back of his throat.

“Show me,” Harry demanded, ripping Draco’s shirt off his body and attacking the button on the blond’s trousers. 

Draco slapped his boyfriend’s hands away shimmied out of his trousers, watching Harry’s mouth gape open at the sight of the leopard g-string. He turned around and pulled the back of the teeny tiny knickers off his backside, revealing the gold and red tassels sticking out of his hole. A strangled sound tore from the brunette’s throat when Draco planted his palms on the edge of the sink and bent over, wiggling his arse at the other man—the tassels swinging back and forth in tandem.

“Fuck,” Harry growled. Tearing his clothes off like a man possessed, Harry prowled over to the blond and bit his shoulder, the vibrating butt plug doing delectable things to his cock, making the brunette groan. “How long has this been happening?”

Draco cried, his face contorted in pleasure as his head lolled back and forth. “Every time you touch me,” he muttered. “All night,” he answered the silent question. “Fuck, Harry—it’s too much. I nee-need to c-c-come,” the blond pushed his backside into his boyfriend’s groin. “Please, please, I’m so—God, I’m so close.”

Ignoring Draco’s whines, Harry fit an index finger between the blond’s cheeks and traced his tight hole, the vibrating in Draco’s body growing with every caress. “You have no idea what this does to me, Baby,” Harry purred into Draco’s ear. “Knowing that you were hot and bothered for me all night—going out of your mind for me—God, Draco—it’s the sexiest thing I could imagine.”

“Yes,” the blond hissed, “wanted you all night.”

“You have been naughty, haven’t you?” Harry chuckled darkly and lightly slapped at one of Draco’s arse cheeks. “How many times have you come tonight?”

“T-twice,” Draco gulped, gasping for air as Harry nibbled at the blond’s smooth neck. 

“You nasty boy,” the brunette spanked Draco again.

“Yes!” Draco screamed. “I’ve been so bad, Harry. I need a spanking,” he whined like an actor from a pornographic movie.

“Patience, love,” Harry murmured in his ear and stepped away from the writhing man.

“Please, please, please,” Draco panted. “Don’t make me wait.”

“What do you want me to do to you?”

Draco swallowed and tried to regain some control over his vibrating, squirming body, but Harry wasn’t having any of that. He dropped to his knees, pried Draco’s cheeks apart and licked Draco’s opening.

“Harry,” Draco screeched and writhed as Harry continued working his tongue into the tiny hole alongside the butt plug. It wasn’t until tears were drenching Draco’s face and he couldn’t hold himself up any longer, that the brunette took mercy on him. “Fuck me,” the blond demanded as he fell to the floor in a heap. “Please Harry, just fuck me.”

Adjusting the man beneath him so he was on all fours, Harry carefully spread his boyfriend’s thighs apart, revealing the tassels once more. The shivers that raked through Draco’s body were visible as Harry lazily pulled on the tassels sticking out of his boyfriend’s body. Second by agonizing second passed as the plug was slowly—like Harry was moving in slow-fucking-motion—removed from Draco’s hole until the tip remained. That was when Harry slammed it back in, the vibrating tip ramming Draco’s prostate, and pushing him over the edge.

“Harry! Harry! Harry!” Draco screamed his release as he spurted his come into the tiny material still encasing his hard cock. He collapsed onto his elbows, the convulsions in his body threatened to overtake him from the buzzing toy in his arse.

For his part, Harry almost came from the sight of his boyfriend teeny hole swallowing something so big and so very Gryffindor looking with it’s red and gold coloring.

Not wanting the moment to end, Harry twirled the toy between his thumb and index finger, turning it in circles inside of Draco. The blond’s sensitized skin broke out in gooseflesh as he wriggled his cute little ass in the air, silently begging for more.

Harry looked between the blond’s thighs to see that he was still hard. “What do you want, love?”

A beat passed before Draco whispered, “You. I’ve only wanted you, Harry.”

A tidal wave of lust and want and emotion washed over the brunette. He repositioned his blond so he was lying on his side and slid into place behind him, kissing him soundly on the mouth. “I love you,” he murmured against Draco’s lips. “Always have.”

Draco ducked his head, smiling so broadly that it competed with the sun, and batted his eyelashes at his boyfriend. Chewing on his bottom lip, he shyly declared, “I love you too, Harry. Forever.”

They kissed deeply, their tongues lazily battling for dominance. As an afterthought, the brunette pulled the butt plug out his boyfriend and tossed it aside. He lightly fingered Draco’s hole before gathering some extra lube and spreading it on his cock.

It slipped in easily and the angle had Harry hitting Draco’s prostate just right.

There was nothing sweet about what they were doing—usually Harry pampered Draco, taking his time to caress every inch of his skin with fingers, licks, and nibbles. Relentlessly, Harry pounded into the other man who writhed and moaned, feeling like he would die if Harry stopped. 

“I’m so—” Draco panted, pillowing his head on one of his arms and meeting Harry’s thrusts. “So close, Harry, so close. Please, please.”

Harry slid his hand up Draco’s thigh and across his hips before he trapped Draco’s cock in his fist.

It only took three tugs for Draco’s taut muscles to spasm and clench around Harry, shooting his come up the blond’s chest and onto his shoulder. “Oh my God,” Draco panted, whispering his mantra over and over as his body relaxed under Harry’s hands.

A few more thrusts pushed Harry over the edge and he came deep inside of his boyfriend. “Fuck, Dray! Fuck!”

They slumped against the tiled floor together, neither one wanting to break the moment. Slowly, like his own strength had been drained from him, Harry turned the blond on his other side so he could nuzzle his face against Harry’s chest. 

“So,” Harry whispered, afraid of ruining the blissful peace that settled on them, “not that I’m complaining, but what made you—you know?”

Draco buried his face deeper into Harry’s slight chest hair and licked his nipple, eliciting a tiny hiss from the other man. “I was worried,” he replied.

“Worried?” Harry slipped his hands onto Draco’s shoulders and stared into the blond’s gray eyes. “What were you worried about?”

The fear in Harry’s emerald eyes was enough to make Draco laugh out loud. It suddenly seemed so ridiculous. He knew Harry loved him, if his confession could be believed. So what if they went for a while without sex. Was that such a bad thing?

He looked at the smattering of drying come on their bodies and the floor and heard a voice in the back of his mind screaming at him. Yes, it was a bad thing.

“We were going through a dry spell so I thought…” he trailed off and gestured between the two of them.

“A dry spell? Draco what are you talking about? We have a healthy sex life.”

“Well I was talking to Pansy and she suggested spicing things up since we haven’t had sex in—”

“Four days,” Harry supplied. “Dray, four days without sex doesn’t constitute a dry spell. And you worked a 48 hour shift during that time, love.” He chuckled as he tightened his grip on the blond. “A dry spell.”

Draco smiled into Harry’s chest and lightly bit nibbled at his skin. “Since we’re both naked and still here…”

Needless to say it was several hours before the two were able to the bathroom and if George Weasley wasn’t able to make eye contact with them for several months, it was worth it.


End file.
